Love At First Fight
by HollyyMorpheus
Summary: Dante/Nero AU. Dante's This King Of Hell, Suffering From A Bad Case Of Having Nothing To Do, But With A Feisty young Halfling Give Him A Run For His Money. It's A M Just In Case I Get Some Ideas


**A small Note From Me.. The Writer!**

**So I've been having the worse case of writers block ever, my teen wolf fic is going no where. In an attempt to fix it I spat out this. **

**It didn't work. This fic needs a bit more work, and I need help with my writers block! however I hope you give it a chance and someone has advice for writers block! **

Chapter one.

Dante probably wasn't the best guy to rule hell, but after his father's passing and his own twin going ever so slightly insane and trying to kill everyone, he was the only one left. He'd argue and say that there were quite a few more qualified for the job but he's the one with royal blood and a lot of people or well demons are sticklers for that kind of thing.

So here Dante sits in his throne with his legs thrown over the left arm, his feet clad in dark down military style boots, where crossed at the ankles dangling a couple of inches above the ground. He was bored, the council elders, basically just a bunch of demons thought to be wise, where standing as the base of the three steps that separated him from them. They were talking about some business in the far land, something about mudas trying to start an uprising and over throw him. It wasn't the first time he had tried so Dante wasn't so worried. Instead his mind wondered trying to think of something for him to do. He considered passing his time in a pleasured haze of sex and booze but even to him that now seemed boring. There was plenty to do in hell, he could hunt, find some tortured souls in the wastelands use them as prey, but the more he thought about it the more it lost its appeal, the wastelands where to the north and several hours of flying in full demon form where required to get there, he didn't want something that required effort. He contemplated visiting cerburs his favriout pet and guard of the gates, but even then he would have to run and play, if you could call letting a three headed giant monster dog try using you as a chew toy playing, he dismissed the idea after a little more contemplation.

Having long since drowned out the elders, dante heard an distant sound, and up roar of a crowd. Swinging his legs around, planting them firmly and noisly onto the ground, he pushed himself up a little dramatically.

"The Games."

With that he strode down the steps past the elders and made his way out of the throne room. He could hear the elder mumbling amongst themselves but he couldn't care less he had found something to occupied his time with.

The games where held in a massive area that seated thousands, it was built long before Dante's time and could have ben based off the human arenas. However these games had one small hellish twist. Demons, monsters and any other soul wishing to join the games where pitted against each other with the promise that the victor's chains would be no more. You see each soul off hell, beside those born there, had chains that bound them ensuring they could never escape and that if the king wished it he could find anyone he wanted by going to the deepest part of his castle and find the start of the chain, each chain had a name burnt into the links, find their chain and the king could follow it, however only those of pure blood could see the chains.

Once all the contestants had killed each other, whoever was the victor would have one final challenge. To face a beast of hell. No one ever won.

Those of royal blood where never seen at the games, there was a place for them to sit and watch, but as time went on the games became sport for those Who had pledged their loyalty to the king and worked within the kingdom, it was a past time for them. Which it probably why Dante had gained a look of confusion form the elders and why his most trusted guard was following behind him.

As Dante walked through the ever twisting hallways, the methodical clicking of her heels where beginning to piss him off.

"What's up Trish can't bear to be too far from me."

A snort was his only response. Twisting on one foot spreading his arms wide and flaring his coat, Dante grinned at her.

"Wouldn't you like to help occupy my time?"

Again Trish snorted. She placed a hand on her hip and cocked it to the left, looking him up and down, before leaning forward into his personal space.

"You know I like them with a bit more bite"

Dante's grin dropped as Trish walked a few meters ahead of him. Stopping at a large ivory door she faced him again, gripping the door handle she called.

"Come on _Sire _don't want to miss the games."

It wasn't long before they reached the arena, small groups where outside muttering between themselves placing bets on the fighters. Dante cut through them and made his way past the short que into the arena, people had stopped to look, shocked to see him there.

He was waved through the entrance and led up a long flight of stone stairs to a small but accommodating box high above the arena grounds. Dante took his seat resting his feet on the low wall above him.

A hush whisper spread through the once roaring crowd and the announcer and stopped mid speech. All eyes were on him. He had inkling that maybe they wanted him to say something, but not in the mood to appease a crowd he gave a two fingered salute. With that the announcer continued, but the crowd remind quite. For another 30 minutes Dante sat through the introductions of each fighter before the announcer left the grounds. By this point even the hushed whispers had stopped and everyone seemed to sit forward a little. Everyone but Dante.

The minuet dragged before finally the bell toll declared the start. Each fighter was unequipped and expected to fight bear handed, on the odd occasion weapons of all kinds where thrown in. At first Dante was unimpressed until something white caught his eye. Leaning forward with his elbows on his knee and he head resting on his hand he smirked. There right in the centre of the arena fighting for his life was the most entertaining fighter Dante could see.

From his vantage point he could tell he was the youngest of the group, with his white hair and smooth snow kissed skin, he had caught Dante's eye. Without looking away he signalled for one of people attending to him.

"Who is he?"

For a moment the man was stunned, he looked behind him at the two others hopping they would know.

"if you paid attention you would know, they said his name was Nero, he's around 19 and he's a Halfling born on earth, raised in hell"

Dante glanced at Trish for a second before looking back at the boy Nero. So far 3 of the 6 fighters had been killed, Nero having taken out 2 of them all though he wasn't uninjured, he seemed to be okay. The final remaining 2 had teamed up, making a tactical move, one coming in from the left the other from behind. Two lower demons verses one half demon, all were unarmed and Nero didn't seem to be moving. Dante inched forward in his seat. Nero spun to his left, raised his right hand, and pulled a black leather glove off, revealing a dangerous looking devil arm. Long thick talons covered in blue and red scales. The armed seemed to glow as Nero shot his hand out. The crowd roared in delight. For the hand seemed to disconnect from his arm, and ghostly blue mist stretching out towards one of the runners, however the talons at the end of this ghostly arm looked as solid as the rest of him. Within seconds of this display the first runner was lifted into the air by his neck before being thrown into his team member. Their bodies crashed into the wall, one snapping his neck from the force of the impacted and the other, the one Nero picked up had blood gushing from his neck, the talons having pierced his scales.

Nero hadn't moved, but his arm had returned to normal. His body relaxed as the last two fighters were confirmed dead. The crowd roar as Nero looked around, his eye skimming the crowd before he caught Dante's stare. Without breaking eye contact, Dante lent back in his chair once again placing his head on his hands.

This had turned out to be very entertaining.


End file.
